


Off-Duty Booty

by GuileandGall



Series: BaeYes [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Milky Way Prologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: Reyes Vidal has been lusting after Bain Massani since they met during a diplomatic operation. When the private security specialist’s contract finally concludes, Reyes is pleased to find that he hadn’t been misreading the signals.





	Off-Duty Booty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moxanna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxanna/gifts).



> Written to fulfill a Spectre Requisitions request from moxana, specifically Request 2. They requested some Bain Massani/Reyes Vidal smut with the suggestion to let my imagination run wild. So, I did just that. Thank you so much to inuy21 who gave this a proofread and boosted my confidence about it. She is also to blame thank for the title—much love for that too.

**-1-**

The plain facade blended in with the other buildings on the block, except for the treble clef that blazed in cycling shades of neon. Upon closer inspection, one would find the beat of loud music, thumping noticeably, even from outside the red trimmed doors of the bar. It was one of the things Reyes Vidal liked about this place. The music battled with the din of conversations, forced people into closer proximities and inspired some to turn the thin walkways between tables into make-shift dance spaces.

He tugged his loosened bow tie off and stuffed it in his pocket as he entered. Standing not far from the door, he scanned the crowd, unbuttoning the top two buttons of the blouse of his formal uniform. During the day, the place could be quiet and cozy, but at night … nights like that night it was everything but. A group of asari were slamming back shots at a few tables in the back. There were denizens of every council race and a few beyond—all dignitaries of some type of another visiting for the General’s retirement ceremony.

The celebration swelled the usual crowd and packed the place to the brim. Earlier that night at the officer’s club, everyone had been sipping their watered-down drinks with measured caution and playing nice with one another. Now, it seemed all that pent-up pressure needed to be released. At least, that’s why his taxi ride had ended here as well.

Sharp, hazel eyes moved over the thick crowd—force of habit. A grin crept over his swarthy lips when he noticed a familiar face at the end of the bar. He’d seen him at the base commander’s retirement party, but the man proved slippery, disappearing every time Reyes got close enough to ask him to dance or have a drink. Of course, they had also been playing that game for weeks, ever since the mysterious man showed up at the installation. But now … now, he was seated a mere few yards away.

He’d met Bain Massani two weeks earlier when a senator showed up for what was described to him as a routine inspection. Of course, Reyes knew better than to believe the _official_ story. One of the rumors centered on the potential closing of the installation. But regardless of the reason for the visit, Reyes had been tasked as Senator Cromwell’s chauffeur, though the orders described him as the man’s pilot. And in addition to the usual retinue of Alliance and military security, there was Bain.

Even after two weeks, Reyes still wasn’t sure what Massani’s exact role was, but this was the first night in all that time that he’d found the man off base at all, let alone in a bar. Any time he’d attempted to chat him up during the assignment, Reyes had been met with looks that ranged from stoic to interested silence. A few stolen glances and quickly passing flirtations suggested that perhaps he wasn’t the only one interested, but so far nothing had come of it. Feeling he stood a better chance in this more informal atmosphere, Reyes crossed the room, without taking his eyes off the prize.

The tall, man with the buzzed dark hair and brilliant emerald eyes was still sipping at his beer with a gentle bob of his head as Reyes leaned toward his right shoulder. “Fancy this.”

“Pardon?” the man said as his head snapped in the direction of the voice. Even over the keening of a guitar solo, his strong, deep voice reached Reyes easily. It stoked Reyes’ interest further. As did the twist of a grin that barely tugged at the corner of Massani’s mouth when he met Reyes’ gaze. “Reyes.”

“I noticed you at the party earlier.”

“Ah,” the man said with a nod.

“So, what were you doing at that shindig? You clearly weren’t required to attend.” The man wore a simple, but well-cut tuxedo rather than a formal uniform, which suggested he was a civilian rather than military, like Reyes. Or so he assumed.

“I was working.”

“Mmm, again.” Reyes nodded, a quiet laugh in his voice.

“Almost always.”

“Are you still working?” he purred, leaning a little closer. His voice dropped into a lower register as he traced his fingers along the back of Bain’s arm.

The flash of a smile seemed to reflect Reye’s intentions. “No,” he said with a subtle shake of his head. “I’m not.”

“Well, then, perhaps now you’ll let me buy you a drink?” Reyes didn’t wait for an answer. He raised his hand and held up two fingers at the bartender who approached them. “Two,” he told the woman without saying any more than that. He was a regular, she knew exactly what he wanted—Hedonism Quindecimus whiskey. It was a young 20-year-old whiskey that tasted of honey and flowers. He felt the unique profile of the rare Scotch would assist his intent.

She set the glasses on the bar and poured from the bottle with a florid-looking and decorative label.

“Appreciated,” Bain said, lifting his glass in Reyes’ direction.

The military pilot clinked the edge of his glass against the other man’s. “My pleasure.”

Both raised their glasses, neither looking away. Massani’s vibrant green eyes pinned Reyes in place. There was an intensity in his gaze that did as much to quicken his pulse as his broad shoulders and trim waist. The man had a fine cut to him and his large, strong hands left Reyes’ mind wandering.

“I didn’t recognize the label. What is this?” Bain asked.

Reyes’ grin widened with glee. He placed a hand on Massani’s shoulder and leaned toward his ear. “Hedonism,” Reyes said in a purr.

The other man’s laughter rumbled against the wild rhythm of the music. “Of course, it is. Fitting,” he said with a bright smile.

“I thought so.” He took another sip, the silky taste of honey teasing his tongue as he savored the whiskey in his mouth a moment.

Massani turned on his stool, a forward gesture that let Reyes move closer by stepping between his legs. They sipped their drinks, making them last longer just for the excuse to stay just as they were. From time to time, Reyes noticed Bain’s free hand trace the outer seam of his trousers absently. It prompted his own forwardness—brushes of the backs of fingertips against the scarred digits wrapped around a steadily emptying glass.

The loudness of the music gave them the perfect excuse to lean into one another, letting breath tease against skin as they spoke in husky tones.

“Do you play?” Massani asked at one point.

Reyes grinned, straightening a bit to meet his gaze. “How do you mean?”

“Pool.” He said with a laugh and a tip of his head.

It wasn’t the game Reyes was thinking of, but the idea of admiring Bain’s muscular body while he took aim inspired him to say, “Sure.”

“Grab two beers. I’ll go rack.”

Reyes did just that, watching the other man’s movement through the crowd. He slid the jacket off his shoulders as he passed into the more well-lit area of the bar. When Massani rolled up his sleeves, Reyes caught sight of a bit of black ink, which made his flexing forearms that much more intriguing. His eyes were rapt; he never heard the bartender place the beers down. Finally, thinking she might be lax in her duties, he glanced toward the bar and found their drinks.

The other man was crouched behind the table, placing colored balls in the triangular rack when Reyes reached the area. He placed their drinks on the table, where Bain’s jacket lay neatly folded. He rounded the table and grabbed a cue, giving Bain so much more than a passing glance. The cue ball hadn’t even broken yet, and Reyes was nearly certain he was going to lose. His attention was far too distracted.

It only worsened when he placed the cue ball and took aim. Bain lifted the rack and leaned there against the other end of the table. Dragging his gaze from the man’s striking eyes, Reyes found himself staring right at the fly of Bain’s trousers. His mind ran off with him again. He resorted to closing his eyes and taking the shot. The balls cracked and clinked against one another as they scattered.

“First time I’ve ever seen that technique,” Massani teased as he swept past Reyes, far closer than necessary. Vidal didn’t mind a bit.

“I’m one of a kind.”

“Clearly,” he agreed with a lift of his brow.

It was rare that Reyes found himself this taken with someone. A whisper in the back of his head explained it away as anticipation combined with two weeks of having someone tempt him with hints of reciprocation while maintaining an infuriating amount of professional distance. Massani claimed solids and downed three before missing a shot on the two-ball.

The flirtations continued—both veiled and completely blatant. At one point, Massani placed a hand on the bumper and leaned near Reyes. “If you prefer, I’ll stand behind you. Less distraction.”

Reyes straightened, looking up at the grinning man. “I’d much rather enjoy the view,” he said, wearing a smirk. “Plus, I think you like the attention.”

“Not usually.” There was something in his eyes, in his tone, that said there was more truth to that statement than might be gleaned from the man’s salacious countenance. Despite that he rounded the table and set his hands on the edge of the table again, staring at Reyes.

To his own surprise, as much as Massani’s, Vidal made the next shot and another. It brought the game closer, but with every sunken shot he became more certain the game was nothing more than an attempt to get to know one another a little better. Reyes answered questions about the area around the installation and some questions about his service—others he passed over.

The courtesy wasn’t as freely returned. Massani’s answers often veered this way and that, not entirely answering the question or taking the information in a different direction altogether. While Reyes found it strange, he didn’t press the matter.

Downing the fifteen-ball gave Reyes the first shot at the eight. And when Massani made himself a distraction again, the pilot just laughed.

“What?” Bain asked. “Have the rules suddenly changed?”

“Not in the least,” Reyes replied, leaning forward to try to line up the tricky shot. He’d given himself a bad lie, but he was going to try to end the game here. Then make the next move.

He drew the cue back, but it was nearly knocked out of his hand. The tip slapped against the cue spinning it slowly to the right rather than sending it at the black ball.

“Hey, watch where you’re sticking that thing!” an asari yelled, stumbling a little as she pointed a finger at him with a wide sweeping gesture.

It wasn’t the first or last time Reyes had or would hear that statement in his lifetime, but her reaction was certainly a first. As he turned, she pushed him into the pool table, moving him and the massive piece of furniture nearly a foot before he even had a chance to say a word.

“Calm down,” Bain said, appearing out of nowhere and stepping between Reyes and the asari. “You were the one stumbling around like a blind elcor. He was just trying to take his shot.”

Reyes looked over at the man, not expecting him to step into it. Over the past few weeks, he’d seemed cool under the collar, but this seemed different.

“What do you know about it?” she spat, eying Massani up and down like she was looking for a scrap.

“Unlike you, I had my eyes open.”

The asari lunged at him, but one of her friends, grabbed her before she made contact with the muscular human. “Sorry, she gets a little—” another third asari offered with a demure nod as she helped the other guide their friend away from the two men.

Bain grimaced and turned from the woman and offered a hand to Reyes, who was still leaning oddly against the table just watching everything unfold. As he stood, Vidal saw it too late—an arc of amber. The asari’s friends had let her go after a chorus of _I_ _’m fine. I’m all right_. An instant later she’d turned and busted a beer bottle over Massani’s head when turned his back.

He groaned and took a knee, but a growl curled up from within his chest. Before he returned to his feet, the brawl exploded and spread through the thick crowd. Her sucker punch led to retaliation, which dragged her friends into it along with several people in uniform.

Reyes couldn’t be part of this. He was inches from another write up as it was. A bar fight in a civilian pub would give his commanding officer more than enough fuel to burn him at the stake.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing Massani by the arm and steering him through the ruckus. There was only a little resistance at first. They ducked, dodged, and occasionally punched their way through the crowd.

Reaching the corner of the bar near where they’d shared a drink, Reyes lifted up the part of the bar that allowed someone beyond. “Through here,” Reyes called with a wave of his hand. Pressing a hand against Bain’s shoulder, they slipped behind the bar and into the back room. Reyes grabbed a towel from a basket as the pair snaked through shelves of cases and bottles.  Reyes felt he could breathe easier once they pushed through the back door, which opened into an alley; he broke into a run, almost dragging Bain along with him.

As they neared the street, Reyes slowed his pace and looked back at his companion. “Let me see your head.”

Massani stared at him a minute, then took a breather against the wall. He ducked his shoulder a bit so the pilot could take a look at the wound. There was a two-inch gash above his right ear. It looked like there might be a bruise forming, but it didn’t look too deep.

“I’ve got a room around the corner,” Massani said out of the blue. “Pretty decent place.”

“Do they do room service this late?” Reyes dabbed the blood oozing down his neck, and carefully pressed the cloth to the wound.

“Yeah.” He huffed a laugh, then hissed when Reyes applied pressure.

He winced, not having wanted to cause discomfort. He was just hoping to stop the bleeding. Head wounds always bled like crazy.

“What do you say?” Massani asked, his hand covering Reyes’.

“Sounds like a plan,” Reyes agreed.

Bain smiled then leaned toward the other man. Reyes met him halfway, their lips met firmly. This wasn’t a gentle first kiss. It brimmed with hunger and desire. It left them both gasping when it broke.

Reyes slipped his hand from beneath Massani’s. “Let’s find a cab.”

The injured man just nodded.

They flagged a ride easily enough, even with the taller bald man holding an obvious white towel to the side of his head.

 

**-2-**

What Massani called a decent hotel was one of the most sought after stays near the installation. The senator had expensive tastes and while Bain would never have put himself up in a place like this, he wasn’t footing the bill. The two of them, him more than Reyes, tried to draw as little attention as possible as they crossed the marble lobby. The last thing he wanted to do was explain the bloody towel he was holding to his head to some up-jumped concierge.

He led them to the elevator, then down a long, winding, beige hallway with vibrantly colored art deco carpeting. He opened the door with the key and shouldered into the room. Dropping the keycard on the table in the entryway, he continued around the corner.

“I have a med kit in here,” he said with a glance over his shoulder.

Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he was rather surprised a cab picked them up at all. Blood stained his collar and had dried down his neck. Taking great care, he gingerly removed the towel from the wound. Feeling it pull at the clotting blood, he winced and hissed quietly. He washed his hands and rubbed a bare finger over the wound to see if he could feel any glass.

“Let me.” The voice came from behind him. Reyes had stripped his jacket and was rolling up his sleeves as he slipped behind Massani. “Sit.”

Awkward as it was for a moment, he did just that, lowering the lid on the commode and sitting there with his body turned to give the other man unfettered access to his head wound. A warm cloth cleaned away the dried blood on his skin. When Reyes moved to unbutton the top of his shirt, Bain stared up at him for a moment before removing it himself, entirely. He wadded it up and tossed it onto the floor.

Reyes hands were warm, softer than he’d imagined for a man in uniform.

“You have nice hands, soft,” Bain said.

“I’m a pilot.”

“And?”

“You sound surprised,” Reyes replied.

“I guess I am. Figured being military you’d have more scars.” He touched the hand resting on his shoulder.

Reyes didn’t pull away. “Sign of a good pilot,” he chuckled.

“So, no one’s knocked you out of the sky yet, then?”

“Nope. I’m that good. Better, actually.”

Bain was quiet for a moment. “There’s omni-gel and bandages in the case there,” he said, gesturing with his chin. He became the model patient—silent and still except for a wince or two.

“All patched up,” Reyes declared, once the wound was covered in a bandage a few shades lighter than Massani’s ruddy skin.

Bain stood and stepped toward him. “Now, comes the trying part.”

“How so?” Reyes’ voice floated on an exhale laced with expectation.

“That asari hit me pretty good. I could have a concussion,” he said, a mischievous smile curving his thick lips. Massani knew the signs of a concussion, and doubted he suffered any of them; though concussions could be tricky things. “I’ll have to stay awake for twenty-four hours. I might need someone here to, ah … keep an eye on me.” His eyes roamed Reyes’ face for any sign of reservation.

“Well, I’m not on rotation tomorrow,” Reyes offered freely with a wide smile of his own.

“Good.” Massani dipped his head, just enough to capture Reyes’ mouth. It started soft, tentative, but when the other man raised his chin, parting his lips, it deepened quickly. The pilot’s arms circled his waist and pulled him closer. Massani complied. His fingers raced down the front of Reye’s shirt, unbuttoning as he went, and tugging it free of his trousers before he pushed it over his shoulders.

Bain’s hands moved over the smooth skin rippled by lean muscle beneath. He bent to press a kiss to Reyes’ chest, when the pilot’s hands caught his cheeks. “If you have a concussion, shouldn’t you rest?” His tone was almost serious, but there was a tint of something that suggested he was teasing.

“I don’t have a concussion.”

“Oh, but are you certain?” The heady purr of Reyes’ accent went to his head faster than the whiskey.

“One hundred percent.”

Hazel eyes cast an incredulous look at him.

“Okay, like ninety-eight percent. But I’m sure I’m fine.”

“I don’t know.” Reyes grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the bathroom, leading him toward the bed. “Perhaps we should still be careful. You could be … fragile.”

Bain smirked, a low chuckle escaping. No one had ever accused him of being that.

Reyes maneuvered him then pushed gently at his shoulders to nudge him toward the corner of the bed. “Truly. I’d never forgive myself if something untoward happened.” He almost sounded sincerely concerned, but there was a minute hint of rapaciousness that went right to Bain’s libido.

Reaching up, Bain guided their lips together again. “As long as you stay the night I’m sure that won’t be a worry. Unless you keep your pants on the entire time,” he said between teasing pecks and lower lip nibbles.

An amused laugh widened the pilot’s grin. “There’s no danger of that. I assure you.” He pushed him back onto the mattress. “Move up,” he mumbled against Bain’s mouth, now leaning over him.

The security agent again played along, pushing himself into the center of the bed. His cooperation was rewarded when Reyes straddled his hips. He perched there for a moment, giving the man beneath him a picturesque view of tanned skin marked hints of dark ink. The one on his chest near his shoulder resembled a stylized dog’s head that he identified easily because he was familiar with Reyes’ call sign— _Anubis._

Bain dragged his hand over the other man’s abs, teased the fine, dark trail of hair that ran from his navel toward the waistband of his trousers. He let his hand follow it as far as Reyes allowed before the pilot pulled his hand away.

Folding over him, Reyes kissed Bain again. The faint rock of Reyes’ hips brought a quiet growl to both their throats. Bain’s hands raced down Reyes’ back and grabbed his ass, guiding the next rock with a little more force and friction. A fervor of kisses, exploratory groping, and steady grinding left them both breathing heavy.

 

**-3-**

The feel of Bain’s excitement brushing against his own thickening cock went right to Reyes’ head. He’d been thinking about tracing kisses over those broad shoulders all night. He did just that, pressing long licks over silver-white scars that crossed Massani’s tawny, muscular chest. Reyes placed sharp bites and hot kisses along the rolling hills of his abs as he crept down Massani’s body. Reaching the waistband of his trousers, Reye’s hazel eyes flicked up to find an intense shade of emerald staring back at him.

Bain shifted onto his elbows, watching every move Reyes made from the slip of the button to the lowering of the zipper. His gaze remained unwavering; when the pilot knelt back, he tugged the supple black fabric downward, along with the golden silk of his boxers. Bain raised his hips to make it easier. His cock sprang free, twitching upward when exposed to the cool air of the room. Reyes could have left him like that, pants around his ankles, but he didn’t; he stripped Massani bare. The man leaned back, one hand tucked behind his head as he stared at Reyes with a hunger he could almost feel.

Reyes stood there a moment, gazing. There was a circular tattoo on the inside of his bicep made up of pointed arrows; there was another he couldn’t see well on the forearm he tucked behind his head. The other arm was covered from shoulder to wrist with screaming skulls warped by some unseen force. And there was a three-headed dragon or serpent of some sort on his pec; Reyes couldn’t really be sure which it was from the style. It just made the man’s beautiful body that much more interesting.

Reyes’ hands had been resting at his own waistband as his eyes swept over the other man’s nude form.

“You just going to stare?” Bain asked as his lithe fingers crept over the curve of his own hip, following the trail of a well-defined V that led straight to the apex of his powerful thighs.

The man was in brilliant shape, Reyes noticed. He found him far fitter than himself. Vidal’s lean muscles tensed beneath his skin; his eyes glued to the sight of Bain laid out before him. “What if I am?”

Anticipation hung thick in the air. Reyes did exactly what he’d been accused of; he stared at Bain’s hand as it circled his cock and slid up the length of it. Still, Reyes took his time lowering the zipper as he toed off his shoes. Then he inched his waistbands down in increments. The ferocious dark head of his cock peeked out from behind cinnabar satin. With every pounding beat of his heart against his sternum, he revealed that much more until he just let his pants and boxers fall to the plush carpet.

“It’s getting awfully cold over here all alone,” Bain said wearing a salacious grin.

“That’s a shame,” he replied, taking a step forward.

Reyes climbed back across the bed, the same way he’d left, but halted halfway. The movement of Bain’s hand poised his cock in far too tempting a manner. Reyes gave the head a greedy lick, earning a muffled moan. His hand took over the slow pace that the other man had set, adding a teasing lick before swirling his tongue around the tip. Dark, rumbling sounds of pleasure erupted from deep in Bain’s chest, when Reyes took him into his mouth. His hand worked the length of his shaft, while he sucked and licked at the head.

Bain’s moans and heavy breathing only encouraged him, as did the rough hands which threaded through Reyes’ hair as his head bobbed. Enjoying his task, Reyes ground his hips against the bed, further exciting himself as he gently sucked and stroked Massani.

Finally, Bain’s hand tightened and pulled harder than he had with previous tugs. “Reyes,” he grunted. At the same time, he started to sit up.

Reyes leaned back, his mouth not even having a chance to close again before Bain’s lips crashed against his. With the clack of teeth, they both groaned with the momentary shock of pain. It was forgotten with the insistent thrust of Bain’s tongue past Reyes’ lips. Their arms wrapped around one another while their bodies twisted like two desert snakes wrestling for dominance. Bain won that bout, leaving Reyes panting on his stomach against the cool cotton sheets.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Reyes teased, peeking over his shoulder.

“Didn’t know you were a doctor, too.” Bain bit his shoulder, then pressed a kiss to the spot of the infraction. With a dose of reluctance, he knelt, putting unwanted distance between he and Reyes in order to reach the drawer of the bedside table.

“You were a boy scout, weren’t you?” the pilot chided, when Bain dropped a long foil strand of condoms and a half-empty bottle of lube on the bed.

Massani chuckled, leaning over him again. “You’ve been dropping hints for weeks. Figured it was best to be prepared.”

“Here, I thought you were playing hard to get.”

Covering his body with his own again, Bain cupped Reyes’ chin, turning his head just a little more to kiss him. “I don’t play hard to get. But I also don’t fuck around on the job.”

Reyes just hummed when Massani nudged his hips up enough to slid a pillow beneath them. “I guess I’m at your mercy now.”

“You don’t have to be.”

Reyes’ hips wiggled, a successful attempt at temptation, as he watched Bain’s reaction over his shoulder. “Oh, I want to be.” Reyes wasn’t shy about what he wanted. And he wanted Massani.

 

**-4-**

Bain chuckled, it would have been impossible to keep from smirking down at the man laid out beneath him. With a resounding snap, the bottle of lube closed and bounced onto the mattress again. His fingers warmed the clear blob, thumb grazing over calloused fingertips, as he placed kisses and bites down the length of Vidal’s spine.

Sitting back on his heels, he gave Reyes a resounding smack on his firm ass. The man chuckled. A playful sound that dissolved into a moan when Bain’s free hand squeezed a handful. Then moving with consideration, he worked a finger into Reyes’ ass. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth when the moaning started as he moved it slowly.

It was intoxicating. “Noisy, aren’t you?” Bain purred.

“Did you really expect a quiet mouse?”

“Not sure what I expected,” Bain lied. There was a reason that bottle was half-empty. And he had been telling the truth when he told the pilot he didn’t hook up while on assignment. It made him sloppy. But with the contract concluded earlier in the night he could afford some disorder.

Reyes peeked over his shoulder at him again. Bain was nearly certain there might have been a comeback on the tip of his tongue at least until Massani added a second finger, which wrenched a low purr from the man and made him close those smoldering hazel eyes. “Dios.”

“Not the first time I’ve been called a god,” Massani said, rubbing his hand up Reyes’ back.

A moan and a laugh mingled. “Damn, I want you.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve never been confused for a virtuous man.”

His words dissolved again as Bain curled his fingers. The teasing continued, relentlessly. He enjoyed the noises he could pull from Reyes with just a twist of his wrist; and caught himself staring at the way the muscles in his back and shoulders bunched and flexed under his dusky skin when he rolled his hips.

“Bain.” The huskiness in Reyes’ voice went right to his groin, which throbbed.

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling his nails down the pilot’s back, his other hand still on task.

“I’m not above begging.”

“Oh?” Massani chuckled. He leaned over Reyes, placing his weight on his knees and one hand near the man’s ribs. He took his earlobe between his lips, giving it a gentle suck then a sharp bite. The way Reyes moaned inched Bain toward aching. “I think I’d like to hear that.”

“I bet you would.” As his fingers curled again, Reyes groaned. The register of his voice dropped when he turned toward Bain’s lips and kissed him. “I want to fuck you,” he muttered against Massani’s mouth.

Bain pressed his lips against Reyes’. Flicking his tongue against his top lip, Massani shifted, setting his knees between Vidal’s ankles.

“No,” Reyes said, turning. He gripped Bain’s shoulders and pushed, but the man resisted. Reyes’ nose nudged his, placing another needy kiss on his mouth. “I want to ride you.”

The tension in Massani’s muscles gave way and he allowed Reyes to push him against the chocolate sheets, with a commanding kiss. The pilot sucked at his bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth as he sat up. There was a certain seductive poise to his actions, like every move was designed to be a feast for the eyes—the dramatic way he ripped open the gold foil package with his teeth, the swirl of his thumb and fingers as he warmed a blob of lube, the way he sat back on Bain’s thighs as he stroked him greedily to spread it over the condom he’d placed on him. When he shifted, Bain’s attention went right to his face. He wanted to see it this time, the reaction he’d heard so much of before.

His hands caressed Reyes’ thighs, while the rest of him remained distractingly still. Vidal pressed Bain’s cock against his entrance; the sigh on his lips became a gasp as he slid slowly down. Bain wanted to thrust upward, meet Reyes’ hips and bury himself in the tight embrace of his body; but patience, he knew, paid off more than zealousness. As Reyes inched downward with each rock, Bain gripped and caressed his thighs and watched Reyes’ eyes slip shut with another throaty exhale. The muscles flexed and rippled across his shoulders, down his chest. Bain’s hand traced the smooth lines of Reyes’ torso.

With a playful smirk, the ethereal touch guided over his abs, which quivered a moment beneath his fingertips. Then he drew them along the length of Reyes’ jutting cock with the same barely-there caress. His grin widened when it twitched and Reyes’ moan deepened, though he couldn’t be sure if it was the teasing that sparked it or the fact that Reyes now sat proudly atop his hips, practically filled to the brim.

Vidal leaned forward for another kiss. His hips shifted slow and shallow. Bain wrapped him in his thick arms, one hand at the small of his back to help guide the motion as he added his own measured motion to the mix. As they kissed the two found a libidinous rhythm.

Reyes nipped his bottom lip then pushed himself up again. His palms pinned Massani’s shoulders down as his body rolled through every thrust. From shoulders to pelvis, Reyes threw every inch of himself into magical roll of his hips as he fucked himself on Bain’s cock.  He looked beautiful towering over him, body tight and writhing, a low growl hanging in his throat.

That smooth and deep rhythm had them both panting through the exertion, but neither let up. Their skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, and Bain’s hips snapped into the motion, earning delicious reminders of Reyes’ desire. A chorus of _yes, like that, more_ , and the occasional _harder_ encouraged the man beneath him to seek more of that song. Those hazel eyes smoldered every time they met Bain’s gaze. Emerald glimmered when Reyes was forced to close his eyes amid heaving breaths.

When Reyes sat farther back, riding him with abandon, it allowed Bain more freedom of movement. One hand wrapped around Reyes’ cock, earning a dark growl. He met the rhythm the pilot set, stroking his straining cock with sordid purpose. Massani wanted to feel him, wanted Reyes to come; to see it and feel the pleasure ripple through his body.

He got his wish. “Ah, fuck,” Reyes groaned. “Yes, Bain, yes. Fuck.” Making him curse, watching his eyes slip closed and his head drop back had Massani snapping his hips sharper. The tight heat of his body; the show Reyes put on—a flush that burned down his chest, the powerful way he moved atop Bain, the grumble in his throat as he neared his peak—pushed Bain to the edge.

“Goddamnit, you sexy bastard,” Massani hissed. His breath caught when he heard Reyes pleaded for him not to slow down. Powerless to stop the wave breaking over him, their motions became jerky. Reyes came in spurts that seared across Massani’s stomach and chest, with Bain’s name a breathy mantra that mixed with his less coherent sounds of his pleasure. The mix only intensified the flood of sensation and hastened Bain’s own climax.

The fingers of his free hand gripped Reyes’ thigh as he thrust upward with a single grunted syllable, “Fuck!”

Reyes collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily against his neck. “I knew you’d be good.”

Massani chuckled. “Glad I didn’t disappoint.”

Leaning on one elbow, Reyes loomed over him. “Me, too,” he said with a laugh that mingled with Bain’s. When he kissed him, it broke with a hiss of pleasure when Massani’s hips rocked upward.

“Sensitive?” he asked, with genuine curiosity.

“A bit,” Reyes rolled off him with a groan. Leaving Massani on the bed, he ducked back into the bathroom and returned with a wet washcloth that he swiped over his own stomach. Then he tossed it at the other man, hitting him in the center of the chest with it.

Bain laughed, but took it up and cleaned up the cooling mess on his chest and stroking it over his cock as well, after removing the condom.

“What’s that symbol on your bicep?” Reyes asked as he plopped down on the edge of the bed.

“This?” he asked lifting his arm and looking at the circle of eight arrows all pointing outward.

“Is it some kind of ship’s wheel, or something?”

“Nah,” he chuckled. “It’s the symbol of chaos.”

Reyes nodded, his lips pulling downward for a moment as he did.

“The eight arrows represent all possibilities rather one single certain path,” Bain explained.

“And why do you have it on your arm?” The pilot’s smooth fingertips moved over Massani’s arm.

There was a huff and a bit of a shrug. “Guess you could say it just fits me.”

Reyes traced the shape with a fingertip, then his hand moved up Bain’s arm, over his shoulder and neck to touch his cheek and turn his face toward the pilot. The kiss held a gentleness, something more than the fervor of desire they’d shared earlier. Their arms wound around one another as it deepened and they fell back against the Hanarian silk sheets again.


End file.
